Hammersmith Bridge is a cornerstone of west london’s intricate travelling community, beloved by runners and cyclists alike. Since 1887, the bridge has been a crucial connector for Barnes’ working population, and was so often a struggling bottleneck inundated with frustrated Londoners. But in April 2019, the bridge so fundamental to the daily commute of many students and labourers, underwent its first devastating closure to vehicles of any sort.
This seemingly drastic decision taken by Hammersmith and Fulham was prompted when hairline fractures were discovered in the innermost pedestals of the bridge - and as the fractures festered beneath this west-london monument, the hearts of many middle class mothers gradually began to shatter.
Primarily, Barnes adjusted and an unanticipated tranquility seemed to descend on this once corrupted riverside crossing. Throughout lockdown, the bridge was a revered facilitator of exercising west london - cyclists revelling in the open walkways and ambling families drawn to the safety of paths, undisturbed by vehicles of any sort. And although made slightly more complicated, the travel routes of most were relatively uninterrupted.
Then, on August 13 2020 an ultimate, and much feared disaster struck - it was announced by Hammersmith and Fulham council that Hammersmith Bridge would be closed indefinitely to all pedestrians. Suddenly, Barnes found themselves, for the most part, thoroughly cut off from the rest of London - with their nearest escape accessible by car being Chiswick Bridge (already under severe stress by daily commuters). Already infested with the gloom of the pandemic, Barnes discovered the true meaning of isolation.
This crucial change in the geography of sub-river west london created a fundamental imposition in the lives of many, with some going from a two minute saunter across the river, to an hour long trek round Barnes. Sasha Watkins, 15, a student at Latymer Upper School was among those severely affected, she talked of how she used to partake in a “5 minute walk to get to school every day” and upon the closure of the bridge now has to endure “an hour and a half cycle” round the thames and back to school.
She is not alone, the toe-paths are now flooded with students suffering the same fate, on bikes and on foot struggling to school, and the roads are clogged with school buses weaving through the interminable grid-lock. The question is, how long can these students, already weary with approaching exams, last? And how long will this upside down world continue where parents are working from their kitchens, and the children are the ones tackling the mammoth commutes to work?
